


Familiar with the voice of the lonely, lost in the noise of the wind blowing

by thunderingskies



Series: You bring out the worst in me [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Heavy Angst, M/M, Post-Break Up, References to Depression, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2019-02-07 18:18:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12846822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderingskies/pseuds/thunderingskies
Summary: When did Hajime become this… broken mess? A fuck-up? A person who can’t even get through the day without a panic attack... A person who can’t sleep through the night, who forgets to eat and chain smokes-Well. At least now there’s nobody around who’s going to complain that he smells like smoke.





	Familiar with the voice of the lonely, lost in the noise of the wind blowing

**Author's Note:**

> This is a prequel to "The shit we've been through" - keep reading through this series to see what happens!

“Hajime, hurry up! Don’t forget the salt!” 

Hajime looks up from where he’s standing in the kitchen, emptying a bag of popcorn into a bowl. He laughs, snagging the salt shaker from the counter before he brings their snack into the living room where Tooru is waiting, curled up on the couch.

“How could I?” Hajime asks, amused. He passes the bowl to Tooru before flopping down next to him, loving how Tooru presses against him immediately. He’s warm, and still smells faintly of his favourite coconut shampoo. Hajime smiles when Tooru shakes a copious amount of salt onto his snack before taking a few bites, humming contentedly.

“What did you wanna watch?” Hajime asks, kissing the top of his head. Tooru munches on some more popcorn, shrugging his shoulders.

“I dunno. We don’t need to watch anything, we can just talk,” Tooru suggests, cuddling back against Hajime’s chest.

So cute. Hajime smiles, wrapping an arm around Tooru’s waist. “Sure we can.” 

“Good,” Tooru says. He sighs, turning to look at Hajime. 

Within a split second his smile falls and Hajime’s blood runs cold. Tooru grips at his sweatshirt, tears pooling in the corners of his eyes and trickling down his face. “Because Hajime, I need a break from you.”

It feels like all the air’s been sucked out of his body. Hajime scrambles to reply, but when he opens his mouth, no sound comes out. Tooru feels cold as ice, and he has to pull his hands away when they start to freeze solid. 

“What?” Hajime whispers, his voice pleading, “Tooru, no, please, no-”

“It’s done,” Tooru says, standing up. Ice floods through Hajime’s veins as he heads towards the door, stops just in front of it and looks back.

“It’s not like I ever loved you anyway,” Tooru says, his eyes full of pity. When he slams the door behind him, Hajime’s blanketed in darkness.

Hajime shoots awake right out of a dead sleep. He gasps for breath, sweat dripping down the back of his neck. His heart’s beating a mile a minute, pounding in his chest; on instinct, his hand flies to the space next to him, the cold, empty space that used to belong to  _ him- _

Tears prick at the corner of his eyes as he fights back a panic attack. Fuck, he  _ needs _ to calm down and he needs to calm down  _ now. _

He tries to take some deep breaths but he just can’t seem to regulate his breathing. His hands shake and each breath just comes out heavy and ragged. A wave of heat rushes over his body so he tries to untangle himself from his blanket to try and cool down, but every movement is heavy and so fucking painful.

His hands move far too slowly and his body fights every movement that he tries to make. He’s exhausted and low on energy, definitely - when the last time was that he ate? 

Was it this morning? Last night? He can’t even  _ remember. _

Not to mention that it’s been weeks since he’s been able to sleep for more than a few hours at a time. Not since the break-up. Not since they decided - since  _ Tooru _ suggested, teary-eyed, after yet another fight - that maybe they needed to take a break from their relationship.

The lack of sleep is catching up with him. He dreads seeing himself in the mirror because he knows those huge, heavy bags under his eyes are only getting worse.

He’s on a steep decline and he’s falling fast.

Hajime moves to swing his legs off the side of the bed, but everything just  _ hurts.  _ He just about falls off the bed when his feet finally touch the cold floor, dizzy and lightheaded already from just that small movement.

He tries not to panic, but not feeling in control of his own body is  _ scary. _

All that he can feel is the fear rising up his throat like bile. 

He closes his eyes and grips the edge of the bed until his knuckles turn white from the pressure.

Carefully, he breathes in, waits a moment, and then lets it out. He opens his eyes slowly, relieved when he doesn’t feel like he’s about to pass out. He’s still shaking and feeling a little queasy, but he can push himself up to stand without falling back down.

Unfortunately though, that doesn’t keep the other self-destructive thoughts at bay.

That little voice in the back of his head that keeps telling him  _ you deserve to feel like this. _

Now outwardly he’s just as fucked up and broken as he’s always been inside.

He deserves to be alone.

A throbbing pain behind his eyes gets him moving, snatching up a bottle of water and his tin of cigarettes as he heads for his balcony.

He needs out of this apartment. The air is so stale here and it’s a mess - he doesn’t want to think about the laundry he doesn’t have the energy to do or the old take-out containers he should have thrown out days ago, but just can’t seem to work himself up to doing it. 

He  _ really _ needs a smoke. 

Hajime pushes open the door to his balcony, the night air cool and fresh against his skin. He doesn’t bother to grab a sweatshirt even though it’s cold - the harsh air will keep him on his feet. 

Besides, the cold helps keep him at a decent level of discomfort. A punishment he’s earned.

He drops down into the old wire chair he keeps out here and tosses his tin on his small round table. A sharp gust of wind blows by, sending goosebumps pricking up his arms.

He feels like he hasn’t had anything to drink in days, so the water is first - he twists off the cap and chugs back half of the bottle, stopping only when he starts to feel queasy again. Now he can focus on calming himself down with a cigarette.

He struggles to open up the tin where he keeps his smokes, finally managing to force it open. He groans when he sees that there’s just his pack of filters and a bag of tobacco inside. He’d rolled half a dozen cigarettes just this morning and apparently, he’d already smoked them all. 

Just perfect. 

Sighing, Hajime reaches for the filters, pulling one out of the package. He starts by folding it, then trying to roll it into the right shape, but this proves difficult with how hard his hands are shaking. He spills some of his tobacco twice before he manages to roll it properly. It’s way more sloppy than he’d like, but it’ll do in a pinch. 

He fumbles with his lighter, finally able to take a nice, long drag of his cigarette once it’s lit.

The nightmare that’s been plaguing him for weeks is still fresh in his mind, despite his attempts to numb it with the smoke.

He closes his eyes, leaning back in his chair and sighing. He takes another deep drag, letting the smoke out slowly.

Christ.

Why is this so fucking hard?

When did he become this… broken mess? A fuck-up? A person who can’t even get through the day without a panic attack... A person who can’t sleep through the night, who forgets to eat and chain smokes-

Well. At least now there’s nobody around who’s going to complain that he smells like smoke.

His mind’s still moving a mile a minute, and one smoke isn’t enough. It disappears far too fast, so Hajime rolls another, this time a little neater. His hands are shaking a bit less, numbed from the cigarette and the cold air.

The one thing he can’t seem to numb, though, are his thoughts. The more he thinks about it, the more his heart  _ aches. _

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

He was with  _ Tooru _ . His best friend, his pillar, his other half-

He didn’t just lose his boyfriend - he lost a part of himself.

This pain cuts deep.

They were supposed to work. No matter what, Hajime thought that he and Tooru could get through anything. No matter what had happened in the past, he and Tooru had always worked things out together. They’d persevered through so much shit only to wind up  _ here- _

The look on Tooru’s face when he’d told Hajime that he needed a break is burned into Hajime’s brain. He can’t stop thinking about how broken and helpless he’d looked.

How broken and helpless  _ Hajime _ had made him feel.

He sure fucked this up, didn’t he?

Maybe… Maybe he really does deserve this.

This suffering.

Maybe he deserves to be sitting here alone, in the middle of the night, shaky and teary and  _ broken.  _ Maybe this is why he and Tooru couldn't work. 

Maybe this is just who he was always meant to be.

The longer he sits, the darker his thoughts get and he doesn’t know how to cope with them on his own anymore. He’s terrified about what’s happening to him but he has nowhere to turn.

Hajime’s on teetering on the edge and he doesn’t know how to get back down anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk to me on [tumblr](http://josai.tumblr.com)!
> 
> Thank you Amalas and Ri for beta reading this for me! (And I'm so, so sorry this got so dark. Just... fuck.)


End file.
